In passing, why do we fear death? For our sins? Rather, isn't it the tremendous inherent human curiosity to know what is going to happen to-morrow that causes us to wince at the thought of annihilation? A subconscious resentment against the idea of entering darkness while our neighbour will proceed with his petty affairs as usual? "It's nip and tuck," said the doctor; "but we'll pull him through. I've despatched him to the New Prison. But to live at peace with your neighbour…. Anna opened a cupboard and produced cups and saucers and a tin of coffee. 'He's a good fellow, and 'twill all end well'. So I dare say I was christened Jack. " "Oh, God!" cried Jack, "she does not know me.
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